


Look But Don't Touch

by lorenerd13



Series: The Bad Touch [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, Drunkenness, Flirting, Gen, Khadgar is a gentleman, Purple Prose, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warlords of Draenor Era, Zangarra is a steamy place, does embarrassment count as a type of shenanigans?, female characters writing porn without shame, same levels of awkward though, shenanigans ensue, you'd think since I hate 2nd hand embarrassment I wouldn't write like this buuut no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorenerd13/pseuds/lorenerd13
Summary: Khadgar accidentally crashes a secret meeting between Cordana and Jaina. In broad daylight.Not in the same alternate universe as "Reach Out and Touch Someone" but you should be able to guess where it shows up in here if you've read that story.





	Look But Don't Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hidari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidari/gifts).

> HELLO LOVELIES HERE IS A NOT-CANON THING TO TIDE YOU OVER UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER COOPERATES WITH ME BECAUSE CLEARLY I AM REALLY BAD AT WRITING THE SMUTTY SMUTS.
> 
> "You ever have a friend who was ambitious, talented, and enviably whip-smart about mostly everything but painfully, embarrassingly stupid when it came to lovers?" asked Kagra.  
Earthsinger nodded. "I think everybody knows someone like that."  
"Not the Lady King," smirked the Orc.  
"How do you know?"  
"Well, if you don't know anybody like that, you probably _are_ like that."  
—[Frostblood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296559/) by poicephalus (Galena)

Jaina put down the final page of the manuscript and tried to phrase her immediate reaction diplomatically. “Bearing in mind that I'm more used to giving feedback on academic works... it's, um, pretty dark?”

Cordana smirked but made no move to reclaim her work. “Works like this are as much about letting off steam as dredging terrible things out of the subconscious.”

“I suppose that's true...”

“What about you, Jaina? What swims in your depths?”

She hugged her own paltry attempt to her chest in embarrassment. “Oh! It's—it's not ready for critique yet.”

Cordana laughed throatily. At least she didn't try to reach for the slim sheaf with all the excruciatingly bad word choices. Instead, she picked up the decanter and, filling Jaina's goblet, said, “You should have more wine. I think it was a human writer who advised creating while drunk and regretting it sober.”

Elven wines went straight to her head. Jaina disguised a rising heat in her cheeks with a peek at her lurid prose. For the Light's sake, she'd described her first lover's erection as a “shimmering love-hammer.”

Fortunately for her self-consciousness, Khadgar chose just then to saunter under the drape-covered pavilion they'd set up to escape the steaminess of Zangarra. He immediately lost the unfocused air he normally wore around his tower and asked, “Is this a private tent or might I join you?”

Hoping he would take her uncontrolled blush for a reaction to the oppressive heat, Jaina glanced at Cordana wordlessly.

“This was our book club time, but I suppose if you promise to behave yourself, you might stay,” Cordana replied. Jaina forced away a frown, wondering why her writing partner would play up the flirtatious aspect here and now.

Khadgar beamed at them and conjured himself a plush chair to lounge on. Only when he had squirmed into a tangle of long limbs and breathed deep of the magically chilled air did he take note of the papers she and Cordana held. His grin grew more impish as the mental gears turned, and he winked at Jaina.

Given what she had just read of Cordana's fantasy, Jaina doubted she would be able to meet his gaze ever again without turning redder than a sunset at sea.

Her life could only continue to grow more mortifying: Khadgar was apparently taking the stricture to behave to mean he shouldn't speak, but gesturing was safe. And therefore he had decided to invite Jaina to share her uninspired writing with a near stranger. Bad enough Cordana expected a fair trade from her.

“Go ahead, Jaina. Show the Archmage what you're made of,” Cordana said without looking up from her collection of out and out unrepressed storytelling.

_Oh, Light._

“It's only a first draft,” she whispered miserably. Convincing her arms to lift what felt like a thousand pound weight took more more gumption than standing before a council of dour magisters who doubted her power. Khadgar searched her face for long moments before he reached out to accept the papers.

Now she had nowhere to look, not having anticipated needing to bring a more normal novel along in which to hide her eyes. Contemplating Khadgar reading her erotica made her want to vibrate out of her skin. She hadn't started whimpering out loud... yet. All she could do was stare at the back of each page with an expression that approached that of a beseeching perky pug.

His face gave nothing away. Not at first. What page had the purple prose really started on? Jaina couldn't recall. Then Khadgar flipped to the second page and his eyebrows shot upward and Jaina knew she would never live today down. The only way out was through getting smashed on elven wine.

Except her glass had run empty. Jaina stared desperately into the partially reflective bottom.

“Autobiographical focus, eh?” Khadgar asked after an interminable eternity.

Jaina nodded without meeting his eyes even as her face renewed its flush. Of course it’d be _that_ obvious to the likes of him. She kept her gaze focused on that empty cup as if the Light’s salvation lay within, which meant she missed Khadgar attempting to hand back her manuscript until he made the sheets rustle by flapping them in her direction.

When she dared to peek, a hint of pink suffused his cheeks too. And yet knowing this made her feel approximately zero percent better about the situation.

Whatever her inner mortification levels when Khadgar read her attempt, it was nothing compared to the memory of what was in Cordana’s manuscript. There were lines of professionalism you just didn’t cross, even if you had a persistent crush on your assigned protectee, and while she could understand writing them down to get them out of your head, turning around and giving the object of those feelings a chance to see them laid out in all their unabashed glory... She hadn’t even bothered to change any of the names or situations!

The silence grew more fraught as Khadgar read the second manuscript with focused determination. Jaina stopped herself from tapping a fingernail against the cup and a dozen other nervous tics before they interfered with Khadgar’s concentration. Although a nice fel fireball containing an infernal hurtling out of the sky right about now would provide a timely distraction. No luck, though. She could hear every buzzing insect and land-based critter’s mating calls; Khadgar and Cordana’s breath. The anticipation was killing her.

Finally, Khadgar cleared his throat and went to return the papers to Cordana—but dropped them in a scattered mess on the ground. Jaina tried to contain her giggles as the farce played out but it all struck her as just too ludicrous for words.

To her further embarrassment, Khadgar jumped in on the laughter while sounding just as self-conscious as she. He got down on his knees, cracking up continuously, and shuffled the papers back into some semblance of order before returning them to Cordana’s waiting hand.

The Warden hadn’t laughed. Arguably, social mores between night elves and humans differed with regard to appropriate times to suffer a laughing fit. That she might be hiding her embarrassment behind a stern mask dried up Jaina’s laughter, and Khadgar’s soon faded as well. He took an unoccupied seat in the circle of battered plush furniture, his conjured chair having dissipated in the confusion.

Cordana rearranged the manuscript pages to her liking before asking in a measured voice, “Did you have any specific feedback on mine, Archmage?”

“I—um—” Khadgar said, going red from neck to ear-tips. “Adverbs? You may want to mind throwing them around?”

A surprisingly coherent response, in Jaina’s opinion. Cordana took this in silence for a time, which made Khadgar grow more nervous by the moment. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and by his temple, though Jaina affected not to make it known that she could see any evidence of his discomfiture.

Finally, Cordana nodded, then added, “That’s sage advice. As expected from a man of great learning. Thank you, Khadgar.”

He threw himself out of the chair like an apprentice at final exams, unfolding to his full height as if that would give him some small measure of advantage. As if he stood before an enthroned queen awaiting her leave, else she might threaten to have him beheaded. Jaina noted this with prurient glee and added a mental note to re-read Cordana’s manuscript looking for hints pointing to this aspect of their relationship.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair before saying, “You have my admiration for writing in a foreign tongue; that’s never easy.”

At this point, Jaina was reminded of the days when an apprentice would have to give a book report on some dusty monograph in front of the rest of their class. Assuming Khadgar had experienced the same thing, it made sense for him to show serious nerves here. Enough bawdy songs about Jaina and various suitors of more persuasions than simply male had made it into the popular consciousness that she could sympathize with a very specific laundry list of things that someone might fantasize about Khadgar. After all, the line between flattery and more negative reactions became quite thin after the second or third time—let alone the one hundredth.

“Jaina.”

Jaina jumped in her seat, the rising blush not one bit daunted by her attempts at controlling it. “Yes?”

“What do you think of adding Khadgar to our club?” Cordana asked.

She squeaked in reply. Bad enough Cordana had chosen the theme of forbidden love for this month’s writing project; at this rate, who knew what terrible prompts might come up next! And the rules said that each member would eventually take a turn at the prompting. How could she salvage this?

Once she found her voice, she gasped out, “I’m sure the Archmage has too many responsibilities to join us!”

“Actually,” Khadgar interrupted, “my responsibilities seem to be drying up now that we know our quarry has set up shop in Tanaan Jungle.”

Jaina could handle the emotional turmoil no longer: she dove for the decanter and refilled her wine glass, drinking deeply from it. With luck, she would remember approximately none of this tomorrow. On the other hand, picturing Khadgar's discomfiture later would absolutely make her feel minutely better about her own. Or was that the wine talking? And Cordana came off surprisingly more convincing than Jaina might otherwise have suspected, or else she wouldn't be here. 

“It's Cordana's club to start with; I'm sure whatever she wants is fine,” Jaina finally said in desperation. When her turn to suggest a theme came around, she would abstain!

“Two on one makes for pretty manageable odds, I should think,” Khadgar said. When his face turned nearly as dark as the wine a moment later, Jaina no longer held any illusions about his innocence. She poured a new cup of wine for him and offered it up in solidarity. 

“It's decided, then,” Cordana crowed. “Welcome to the writing club, Khadgar. Tell you what, since you're our newest member, I'll put off our next meeting for a month so you'll have time to really put some effort into your first piece.” The look she gave him, in Jaina's learned opinion, in no way resembled _welcome_, although predatory might cover it.

Khadgar merely looked thoughtful. If the man had trouble with double entendres, what sort of storytelling would they get out of him?

“And the theme?” Jaina asked. 

Again Cordana turned that lazy, hungry gaze on Khadgar. “Release.”

**Author's Note:**

> I considered having the whole of ROaTS revealed to have been written by Cordana at the end but ultimately decided not to, so here's another way of looking at it.
> 
> With thanks to Hidari for commenting that Khadgar reading smut of himself would be hilarious because fuck yeah, I so agree.


End file.
